Heart of the Inquisitor
by rainfall1310
Summary: A short drabble for my Katerina Lavellan and her LI, Blackwall
1. Chapter 1

Bull told her once that the Qunari pick their leaders based on those who can make the hard choices, and live with them. It's just one of the reasons Katerina knows she is not fit to be inquisitor; she wears her heart on her sleeve for all to see.

She gets choked up during the attack on Haven, running towards Cullen's frantic voice, the singed, blackened bodies of their people crumpled on the ground. Blackwall is there, as he always is, gripping her elbow and urging her forward as gently as he can, but still she sees them.

She tears up again as they finally leave her to face Corypheus herself, Solas and Sera all but dragging Blackwall away. She won't let them die too, won't let them see her as she takes her last breath, even though she knows their haunted faces will be the last thing she sees. But she manages to outsmart Corypheus, to escape. The last breath does not come today, and the tears freeze against her cheeks as she struggles through the snow, back to her companions.

It's not until after Adamant though, after leaving Hawke to die, that she truly breaks down for the first time. Blackwall is there again, this time with his strong arms wrapped around her as the silent tears run down her face. Varric will never forgive her. She will never forgive herself.

Katerina is not the best fit to be Inquisitor, but she was chosen and she does her best. She stops being ashamed of feeling everything so strongly, leaning into the strength of her companions. They see her tears, and they do not run from them. And still, she is not prepared for the feeling of betrayal in Val Royeaux, so strong that it feels like she's drowning; throat closing, ears ringing, teeth digging into her cheek. "Bring him back. By any means necessary." She hears the command but doesn't know who said it, for surely the cold, hard voice could not be hers. She tries to hold it together; for the first time in a long time, she doesn't want the others to know how she feels. But Solas does. For all of their disagreements and all of their differences, he knows her. So when she finally cracks, he and Sera are there, the first two she ever trusted. Her sobs are rough, ragged, and still they do not falter. They show her that her companions can still be trusted, even if her love can not.


	2. Chapter 2

**Another short one-shot of my Lavellan and Blackwall, because I'm unashamedly obsessed with them.**

Katerina is afraid of wolves; she sees them in her dreams, their snarling, snapping jaws inches from her face, saliva mixed with blood the only thing she can see. But when Elaina asks them to rid them of the wolves that threaten Redcliff farms, she knows that 'no' is not an answer. Not when the Inquisition needs Master Dennet, and the farmers need to return home.

Then, a nightmare come to life. She's still not used to fighting, and she gets caught by surprise. A crazed wolf comes seemingly out of nowhere, flying towards her and pinning her to the ground. It only takes a moment for the panic to set in, and a whimper escapes her as she struggles against the beast. Far, far away, she hears Solas call for her, the urgency in his tone consuming her as sure as the darkness that dims her vision. Claws dig into her shoulder, pain and blood and Mythal, please help me-

But it is not Mythal that comes to her rescue- instead, Blackwall is there. He bashes his shield against the wolf, heaving it off of her with a growl. In one smooth motion, he draws his sword across its neck, and she is safe. Her fingers tremble as she wraps them around the hand he has stretched out to her, and she hopes he does not see her hesitate. It will take a while still to shake off her mistrust of those who are not like her.

"Are you alright, my lady?" She is, but only because of him. His gaze is heavy, filled with things she can not name. Stranger yet, though, is that she finds she doesn't mind his gaze, even though she knows that she should. Blackwall is a human, and she knows better. Be civil, but keep your distance; it is safer that way. Do not think of courage or nobility or strong hands that lift her onto horses and hoist her up steep cliff-sides.

Just this once, she decides that she will not heed those warnings. Instead, she laces her fingers through his for just a moment. A simple enough action, and yet it surprises them both.

"Ma serennas...thank you."


End file.
